


Day Tripper

by Granspn



Series: queen in 3d [2]
Category: Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018), Queen (Band)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-16
Updated: 2019-01-16
Packaged: 2019-10-11 02:18:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,352
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17438027
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Granspn/pseuds/Granspn
Summary: oh, tale as old as time, right? this snapshot is about the boys recruiting deaky and such.





	1. the venn diagram of people who can play the bass and people who can get along with freddie mercury

“I think we just have to come to terms with the fact,” Roger said, “that we’re never going to find a bass player.” He plopped himself down unceremoniously onto one of the large comfy chairs lining the graduate lounge Brian had reluctantly granted them access to. It was empty save for the three musicians due to the ungodly hour of the night it was, as Brian had booked a slot at the observatory for around three in the morning, which was apparently the only time he’d be able to see whatever space bullshit he needed recordings of this time. And Freddie had called a band meeting which Brian refused to attend unless it worked around his stellar schedule. 

“Face it, boys,” Roger continued, “We’re doomed to be a three piece band. We can never play live again. Brian will have to play bass on all our records, that is, if he doesn’t peel his fingertips off first,” he concluded with a flourish.

“Oh would you shut up, darling? You’re being dramatic,” Freddie said, waving him off.

“We have been through half a dozen already, Fred,” Brian said while he removed a jar of peanut butter from the communal fridge, double checking the lid was marked with _BHM_ in permanent marker, “I mean, our ads had barely been up a week before we got Rog. I’m not saying we’ll never find somebody, but I am saying that maybe we’re gonna have to make some compromises.” He spoke quickly as he continued making his sandwich, as if finishing hissentence faster would make his sentiment would annoy Freddie any less.

Nevertheless, “Compromises!” Freddie said, “What, like taking on someone who can’t play? Or who can’t hold a decent conversation to save his life. Which is it?”

“It’s just,” Brian started, punctuating his thought by slamming the refrigerator door closed perhaps a bit harder than he intended, “It’s no surprise we can’t find anyone who fits in with us. We don’t even fit in with each other. We’re bizarre!” Roger laughed under his breath.

“And what exactly is that supposed to mean?” Freddie asked pointedly.

“Oh, come on, Fred, I see what he means,” Roger said, defending their testy guitarist. “I imagine we can be a bit of a handful sometimes, don’t you?” As if making a case in point, he suddenly stood up, realizing he’d left a floral blazer strewn on the floor a few meters away from where he was sitting. He retrieved it and draped it over Brian’s bony shoulders, making striking the contrast between it and his usual dreary attire.

“I mean,” Brian said, peeling the jacket off and tossing it to Freddie, “What do you think the Venn diagram of people who can play bass and people who can get along with Freddie Mercury looks like?”

“Two circles that don’t touch at all, Professor,” Roger answered obligingly. 

“How dare you!” Freddie said, his indigence half-hearted, “Tim and I used to get along swimmingly.” Another laugh out of Roger.

“Yeah, right,” Brian said, “You’re lucky I don’t accuse you of driving him away.”

“Driving him away?” Freddie repeated, “What are you, a jilted lover?” Brian rolled his eyes.

“I’m just saying,” Brian said, “maybe we need to, I don’t know, lower our standards.”

“Lower our standards?” Now Roger spoke up, apparently outraged. 

“Not musically,” Brian explained, “But maybe we just can’t be best friends with him.”

“Speak for yourself,” Roger huffed, dropping himself back into his seat. 

“Look, I have some space dust to go look at, all right?” Brian said, “Think about what I said. We can talk again tomorrow, yeah?”

Freddie and Roger nodded their assent, if somewhat distantly.

“We’ll lock up after you; don’t worry, dear,” Freddie said. 

“Cheers,” Brian said, heading out with a thermos and his peanut butter sandwich in tow.

Roger wished him “Sayonara” from behind his tinted glasses.


	2. are you in tune?

Brian showed up two minutes late to band practice the next day, expecting to find the small rented out practice room in total disarray. He anticipated flying tambourines, elaborate vocal warmups, and piles of discarded kickstands and cymbals. You know, the usual. Instead he found the studio deserted. And silent. He checked his watched again to make sure he had the time right before gingerly setting his guitar case on the ground by the amp collection. He was just considering turning around and leaving when Freddie ran through the door looking like he’d been chased in by lions. Then, he made no acknowledgment that he was late and simply strode over to the mic stand and began plugging in cables.

“All right, Fred,” Brian greeted him.

“Good afternoon,” Freddie answered with grandiose. Then he actually took the time to look around the room and realize what was missing. “And where do you suppose Roger is?” He asked.

“I was gonna ask you the same thing,” Brian said, taking his guitar out of the case and starting to tune up. Freddie walked over to the electric piano and gave him a low E.

“Hate these things,” Freddie said.

“A, please.” Freddie pressed the corresponding key.

“So bloody pitiful.”

“Good. D.”

“They simply must get a proper piano in here or I’ll insist we rehearse somewhere else.”

“Oh yeah? With what money? G.”

“I feel like an absolute idiot playing the keyboard. It’s a grand piano or bust, I mean it.”

“I’ll keep that in mind. B.” Freddie played the note a few times then switched off the keyboard, making a big show of wiping his hands off on his trousers before returning to the microphone. Brian had just begun plucking a few new riffs when Roger walked in, the smile on his face wider than anything he’d seen before. He ripped off his sunglasses as he stepped inside and slipped them in his shirt pocket, then motioned for the bloke he’d been walking with to join him in the studio.

“Come on then, don’t be shy,” Roger said. The mysterious stranger was slightly short of tall dark and handsome, with modest green-grey eyes and mousy brown hair that fell around his shoulders. Still, he could have passed for trendy and cool given the height of his boot heels hiding somewhere beneath the flare of his trousers. He smiled and gave an awkward wave. 

“What’s going on?” Brian asked. 

“I have found the answer to all your prayers, my friends,” Roger answered.

“I’m not very religious,” Freddie said. 

“I’ve only gone and found us a bloody bass player.”

“Oh yeah?” Brian said, his eyes lighting up.

“Oh yeah. Maybe there is a god after all,” Roger said more than a little derisively. 

“And that would be you, would it?” Freddie said, pointing to the messiah Roger had brought along. 

“Er, yeah,” he said.

“Do you have a name?” Freddie prompted.

“John Deacon?” He answered. Brian furrowed his brow. Was that a question? 

“Where’d you find him?” He asked. 

“Well, you know how I’ve been putting off all my general education requirements and such?”  


“Naturally,” Freddie answered, walking over to examine “John Deacon?” up close. 

“Found him in an English seminar full of first years!”  


“I’m a second year, actually.” 

“He speaks,” Brian muttered.

“I’m 19,” John said.

“He’s a child,” Brian muttered some more. 

“Stop that,” Freddie said, swatting at Brian’s shoulder. “I like him.” Even “John Deacon?” raised his eyebrows at that. 

“You’ve known him about thirty seconds,” Brian said.

“Well I like him, too,” Roger said, “And I’ve said we’d give him a very lenient audition.” Brian tried to make eye contact with Freddie across the room but he ignored him, opting instead to take an expectant seat on top of Brian’s favored amp. Brian rolled his eyes and stood behind him as John slung the bass that had been hiding behind him off his shoulder and plugged in. 

“Are you in tune?” He asked Brian, indicating the Red Special. Brian nodded and gave him his bottom four strings a bit hastier than was perhaps necessary. 

“So,” Freddie said, “What do you got?”

“What do you want?” John said, the slightest of cheeky smirks just touching the corners of his mouth. 

“He told me he writes his own stuff,” Roger interjected.

“Eh, it’s not all that,” John said, a faint blush tinting his cheeks.

“We’ll have to work on your confidence, dear,” Freddie said, “I’m afraid it’s all ego all the time in Queen.”

“Smile,” Brian corrected.

“Queen,” Freddie insisted, flashing a smile toward John.

“Maybe a bit of modesty is what we need,” Brian said more than a little bitterly. “Go on,” he said to John, “Play something we’ll know.”

“Okay,” John said. “Try this.” And he began plucking out a familiar bass line. It was simple but melodic, and only about five years old. Of course, it had been a single, and a double A-side at that, so it wasn’t obscure, but the kid clearly knew a thing or two about music. Besides, Brian had asked for something they could join in on. 

“Okay, okay!” Roger said after a bar or two, running over to the drum kit and fishing around in the nearby pile of auxiliary percussion for the lone tambourine. It was missing a zill or two but it still offered a satisfying jingle when called upon, so he joined in after John soloed rhythmically for a few more measures. While they amped up, Roger tapping his foot energetically in time and John sort of grooving where he stood, apparently in a world of his own, Freddie hurried over to the mic stand and hooked up one final cable. After the full riff had run through for about the second time his voice rang out in the studio, crisp and clear like nothing John had ever heard before. That wasn’t a McCartney croon or even a Lennon rasp. Nope. This guy had _something_ that stirred even John Richard Deacon out of his bass dance trance. 

“ _Got a good reason_ ,” he sang in perfect tune despite not having warmed up at all, “ _For takin’ the easy way out._ ” Not even Brian May, almost PhD., doctor of sulk could help but smile. And he joined in with the baritone harmony on the second line.

“ _Got a good reason_ ,” they sang, their voices bouncing off each other in perfect symbiosis, “ _For taking the easy way out now_.” 

“ _She was a day tripper, one way ticket yeah! It took me so long to find out. And I found out_.”

“Woo! Go John!” Roger yelled over the noise they were creating as John pounded out the iconic riff he now knew he’d chosen wisely. Soon Brian was adding the higher octave on top (just like Harrison does in the recording, you know) and during the final verse Roger displayed an alarmingly strong falsetto, taking the lead from Freddie for a moment. 

Too late in the game John realized the song just kind of trails off on the record, but the other three managed to make it finish with a bang anyway, Roger pounding a final beat on the bass drum in time with a satisfying cymbal crash, Brian sending them off with a screaming power chord up on the 12th fret. In the silence that followed John would’ve sworn his heart was beating just as loud as Roger’s drum had been moments ago. He looked up to meet Freddie’s glinting brown eyes. His wide smile revealed alarming front teeth and he must’ve seen John staring because he quickly closed his mouth. Still, his eyes shone with excitement.

“You’ve got something, John Deacon,” he said. 

“Funny,” John said, “that’s just what I was thinking about you.” Brian chuckled despite himself as his eyes darted over to Freddie for the verdict. 

“Say, John Deacon,” Freddie started again, “What are you doing this Friday?”

“Friday,” John mused, “I think I might have a gig with this group actually.” Brian saw Roger’s face fall but quickly looked back to Freddie, watching him and John like a tennis match.

“Oh really?” Freddie said, keeping his composure, “What are they called?”

“I’m not sure really,” John answered, “Somebody told me they were called “Smile,” but somebody else told me they were called “Queen?” Roger’s face lit back up as Freddie laughed in relief.

“See, Brian? He’s got a personality, too!”

“I can see that,” Brian said, giving John an appraising look, “You really want to join? It’s kind of a big commitment, you know.” 

“What the hell are you doing, Brian, of course he wants to join,” Freddie said, reaching up to smack him on the back of the head for his insolence but missing as Brian ducked out of the way.

“Well, actually,” John began.

“What? No!” Roger said as Freddie audibly groaned and visibly scanned the room for something to smother Brian with. 

“I am still a student, you know,” John said, “Aren’t you all?” They nodded noncommittally. “Either way, it’s not as if we’re about to quit school to be full time rock stars, is it?" he said, squinting his eyes slightly and fixing Brian with a peering gaze. "But a gig or two? Fairly certain I can manage that.”

“Oh, promise you’ll give us a shot? A real shot, Deaky,” Freddie said, christening him. 

“Okay? I promise?” Deaky answered, slightly unprepared for Mercurial dramatics.

“You’re going to have to get used to that, I suppose,” Brian told him, clapping him on the shoulder.

“Welcome, mate!” Roger said, stepping out from behind the drums, “I promise you we’re going places.”

“Or not, if you’d rather stay home,” Brian said.

“Oh, don’t lie to him, darling,” Freddie said, “We are going right to the fucking top.” 

John just stared at them for a few moments, unsure if he was supposed to speak or what. Freddie had sounded quite final but this was supposed to be band practice and they’d barely touched their instruments except to vamp on The Beatles vamping on the blues. 

Brian rolled his eyes, “He says that to everybody.” Which he did. Freddie believed it every time and Brian never did. Except maybe this time would be different.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for the kudos and encouraging comments! i have a few more little scenes and stuff planned, but lmk if you have anything specific you'd like to see - i'd love to answer some prompts if anyone has any!


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